As their safe houses went, this one was a class three, which meant fully stocked medically, weapons wise, and had a ready to roll vehicle. A quick perimeter check and thorough room-sweep, and Reese felt comfortable enough, "All clear!" to let Carter and Fusco bring Finch inside.
A brown leather couch provided them a convenient place to gently guide and set Harold. Carter had his laptop under her arm, but wore a look of troubled doubt when she laid it on the table. "Finch? I'm no computer expert..., but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say the bullet hole's no good."
Finch scrunched his face and shook his head at the damage, unfortunately reminded of his own damage. "Agh... There... There should be another computer in the office desk."
"Okay, hang in there. Be back in a sec."
"Carter. I'm gonna go keep on eye on Sleeping Beauty, outside." Fusco called to Carter as she disappeared around the corner. "Not that I think he's gonna move anytime soon. Knowing your boy's quality of work..." He declared.
Finch had no idea what Mr. Fusco was talking about.
Reese stalked down the hall, his arms were precariously loaded with medical supplies, and his mind, a million miles away, when he almost collided with Carter. "Whoa!" She jumped to the side. "John...sorry." She didn't know what else to say at the awkward moment. "Ah, Finch said there's a new laptop in the office?"
"Last room down the hall." John moved to continue when Carter's hand stilled him.
"I'm.. I'm glad you're ok. I didn't get to say that earlier."
His blank stare suddenly, and irrationally, infuriated her. "You know that was pretty risky, infiltrating the underground compound. Alone."
He knew that look... "It worked out..." He coyly offered, trying to avoid the inevitable, albeit deserved, upbraid.
She laughed with a look of disbelief. "Yeah? Well see.., that just makes me sure I don't want to know what you're idea of NOT working out, is." She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw trying very hard to reel in what she wanted to let loose.
"Joss, what's wrong?"
Oh... don't go there... she chastised, but she couldn't contain it all. "Dammit John, really? What's wrong?" She met his concerned look. "You go off, all half-cocked, without telling anyone your plan, almost get yourself captured and served on a silver platter - to some deranged, organ-stealing hack! Mean while.., I'm committing national treason by hijacking a government satellite, so Finch and I can then play road-warrior down the middle of a populated town! To save your ass!" She regretted the last part the moment she'd said it.
John reached out, gently cupping her cheek, hoping to offer her some comfort and slow her tirade. "Carter. I can't apologize for what I did. This is what I do, and what I meant when I warned you about the hazards of this life. Of my life. Finch and I knew what we were signing up for, but you didn't. And for that I am sorry."
Fuck! Carter closed her eyes taking a deep breath and moment to collect her thoughts. "I know. I do - at least a part of me does. It's just... sometimes it's hard to keep things in perspective. Especially afterward. After the rush. I just get so angry about feeling useless, powerless, and... scared. I'm sorry." She put her hand over his and pressed into his palm. "But you're wrong. I did sign up for this, remember? It's just gonna take me some time to get used to it."
A sad smile spread to his lips. "You're not the only one that feels that way Joss. And I hope you never get used to it..." The last thing he wanted, was for her to become like him.
Confusion was quickly replaced with dawning understanding and appreciation. She smiled, truly looking at him, standing there in his destroyed tuxedo. He was amazing, still so handsome even thrashed and dirty. No.., especially because of it, she realized. God.., how she wished, right then, they were a million miles away from everything. "You'd better go take care of Finch, I need to find that laptop."
She moved passed him. "Carter?" She turned back, her soulful eyes hanging on his next words. "Don't ever change..." What else could he say that hadn't already been said, felt and feared. She was here because of him, his work, and that had put her in danger and frayed her moral fiber. But he doubted he could ever keep her from it. If he tried, she would fight back as fiercely as she did in every aspect of her life - of that he was certain.
Reese emerged from the hall painfully sitting to Finch's left and unceremoniously dumping the pile of supplies. "I need to take care of that, might hurt, Harold." He added with remorse. "Here. Have some water.., but slowly."
Partly to distract Finch and partly for himself, Reese started a recap of their information. "We know they're headed to some clinic not far from here, and based on Carter's files.., assume it's on the Hutchinson river. Hopefully I can get more from Mathison, sooner than later."
Finch frowned in question. "Sorry. One of the mercenary Lieutenants we captured from the ambulance. Fusco's got him in the back of his car."
"I may have a..., less challenging, way for you to get an address. I found many properties owned or leased by TGS, including the site of the weapons event. We should be able to narrow it down. Ow!"
"Sorry..." John apologetically cringed, but continued his ministrations until the slightest creak from the porch had his gun out, cocked and aimed.
"WHOA! Easy!" Fusco panted. "Just me! Wanted to know if we had a plan yet?"
Reese took a second to breath. The quick movement had strained his injuries, and pissed him off as well. "How's the prisoner?"
"Still out. Think that melon-sized bump on his head might have something to do with that."
"Let me know the second he comes around." John dismissively said while scrutinizing his handy-work. "Ok Finch, best I can do here. You have pain meds with you?"
"Breast pocket." John turned to pull a couple from the discarded suit jacket just as Carter entered with the predicted laptop.
"Bet you have as many computers as John has guns." She chuckled and set it in his lap.
"A disturbing thought." Finch spared a quick glance at Reese who made every attempt to look insulted. "Okay..." He rapidly set to work. "Here, an outpatient clinic off Columbian and on the river. Owned by Trans Global Services."
"Pretty certain organ transplants aren't a quick in-n-out procedure." Carter ironically stated.
"No, but harvesting what they need would be." Reese stood, offering Finch a hand. "Only one way to find out."